


A Welcome Home Kiss (And...)

by Baneberry



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Reunion Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: The war is over. Ratchet finally reunites with his long lost conjunx endura, Pharma. Bumblebee becomes an accidental witness of their "catching up."





	A Welcome Home Kiss (And...)

**Author's Note:**

> For sinninghellbot on tumblr. For a visual on Animated Pharma, look [here](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/File:PharmaAnimated-CAA.jpg).

Bumblebee realized he was in, as Sari would say, "a rather big pickle." That human idiom still didn't make sense to him, but Bumblebee knew he was _definitely_ in trouble.

But one couldn't really blame him. Having been colleagues and friends with Ratchet all these years, Bumblebee knew Ratchet as the bitter, ornery old medic with little to no patience for the young and the reckless. Basically Bumblebee. Although they'd grown close, and Bumblebee knew Ratchet cared for and loved him, Ratchet still remained a rather distant, grumpy rustbucket.

So it came as a surprise to--well, everyone, that someone like Ratchet actually had a conjunx endura. And one that was _younger_ than him. Bumblebee was further shocked when he heard the rumors about aforementioned conjunx endura, too.

Pharma was an up and coming medic, a genius and talented bot who could even put someone as skilled and experienced as Ratchet to shame. Pharma could talk the talk, and he could walk the walk; although he had every right to boast, arrogance still didn't make one very attractive. Pharma was prideful and vain--or so Bumblebee heard--but he was just as dedicated and loyal to his work and his patients. He valued the lives he saved, he valued his place as one of the Autobot's top medics.

Young and smarmy and occasionally known for taking risks (albeit mostly calculated), Pharma was the opposite of Ratchet in almost every way. Ratchet was once a risk-taker himself, but time and loss had worn him down, and now he only took risks when absolutely necessary or he had no other choice. Ratchet gave lectures about this stuff to Bumblebee and the rest of the team all the time--he couldn't imagine how many Pharma had to sit through, especially since they were bonded.

Polar opposites attracted sometimes, so Bumblebee heard. He didn't know if he quite believed that. Most all of his closest friends and loved ones were a lot like him, or shared many of his opinions.

Bumblebee was also too damned curious. Nosy, Ratchet would say. Didn't mind his own business as much as he should. Even now, as Bumblebee secretively and stealthily followed Ratchet and Pharma back to the former's quarters.

Pharma and his team--First Aid, Ambulon, Lifeline, and Kaput--had returned to Cybertron from their post on Delphi for a short while, just a day before Optimus and his crew arrived. Pharma was waiting for Ratchet among the reporters, all excited to speak and interview the Autobots who captured Megatron and finally ended the evil reign of the Decepticons. Ratchet saw Pharma the moment he stepped off the ship, and the two joined in an embrace that had every bulb and camera flashing blinding white for a whole minute.

Ratchet introduced Pharma to the others before they went back to business. With all the attention mostly on Optimus now, Ratchet and Pharma had wandered off. Bumblebee just so happened to see them sneak back on board the ship. While Bumblebee wanted to stay and bathe in all his newfound glory, he just couldn't help himself. No one seemed to notice Ratchet had left, no one would notice Bumblebee missing either.

Bumblebee followed Pharma and Ratchet through the corridors of the ship, the two standing shoulder to shoulder (Pharma's wing bent back carefully), whispering to one another and grinning. Bumblebee blinked only once, and suddenly they were gone; he waited a moment, confused, before running into one of the two nearest rooms.

Empty.

So they had to have--

Bumblebee covered his mouth, masking the small "eep", as the doors slid open. Without thinking, he ran into the closet, shutting the door as quick and quietly as possible. There were slits along the door, dark and dim enough to hide Bumblebee from their view while still allowing him to see outside.

Ratchet was shoving Pharma across the room, hands on his hips, their mouths pressed together in a desperate, long-awaited kiss. Pharma grunted as the back of his knees connected with the desk, and he flopped out on its surface with a soft chuckle. Ratchet pushed off piles of datapads, and despite his age, almost too easily managed to climb up onto the desk between the jet's legs.

What the Pit was going on? Bumblebee puzzled. If they were gonna do what he thought they were gonna do, they wouldn't do it on--

Bumblebee gasped into his hands. Ratchet pawed open Pharma's panels, smirking at the small trails of lubricant. Ratchet leaned down, examining Pharma's channel closer; the jet looked slightly embarrassed, his optics brightly glowing.

Ratchet leered. "Musta missed me a whole lot, huh? Went an' got yerself all prepped fer me, too." He gently slid two fingers inside the gaping channel; Pharma moaned as he found his anterior node, stroking it playfully. "How many times didja self-'face thinkin' about me? Probably lost count..."

Bumblebee's cheekplates burned. Ratchet was so... unbelievable foul-mouthed. Bumblebee wondered if the old bot was overcharged. But Pharma just smirked, reaching out a hand and running it down Ratchet's chest. "Don't disappoint me. Fantasy you is always so amazing and perfect, you see," he teased, rolling his hips into the medic's fingers.

Ratchet growled--more like an old engine sputter, but same sentiment. Pharma's optics twinkled as Ratchet released his pressurized unit. The jet took the shaft in his hand, squeezing once before loosening his grip; the corners of his grin perked as he rubbed circles against the head, along the slit.

"Don't go bein' a tease," Ratchet huffed, "wasn't cute then, ain't cute now."

"Oh, I'm not so sure I believe you, Ratchet..."

Bumblebee gulped. Was he... really hearing all this?

Pharma sat up, sliding down Ratchet's fingers. He purred as he wrapped an arm around Ratchet's shoulders. "So long as you don't 'rush' things like before," he sneered, guiding the old bot down.

"You little..." Ratchet shoved Pharma back, took his hips. He ground the edge of his unit shallowly inside Pharma's channel; who was the tease now? 

Bumblebee's CPU was glitching. 

Pharma moaned, fondling at the desk, chewing his lip. "P-Please... Ratchet..."

"Hmph," Ratchet snorted, lining himself up, "bots these days. No respect fer their elders."

Pharma (and Bumblebee, almost) yelped as Ratchet pushed inside, wiggling so his small but fat unit could move in deeper. Just enough to take half of him. Pharma vented, optics lidded and dim. Ratchet held one leg over his shoulder, and started pumping. Bumblebee didn't know why he wasn't looking away--he didn't even know if he was awake or not right now.

Pharma was a noisy one, though. Squirmed a lot, too. He whimpered and mewled, rocking the desk until it shook against the bolts holding it down. "Ah, R-Ratchet," he whined, licking drool from his lips, "s-so long... Oh, P-Primus..."

"Never fergot how tight y'were," Ratchet grunted, teeth grit. He vented heavily, snapping his hips with little huffs. "Though kinda too old t'bein' doin' this in the--"

Pharma sprung into action. Bumblebee nearly fell over. The younger medic suddenly pushed Ratchet off of him, pinning him onto the ground; in a flash of red and blue, he was seated back on the old bot, straddling his hips. "T-This better?" Pharma snickered, hands braced against Ratchet's abdomen as he rode his unit with slow rolls of his thighs.

Ratchet cursed. "Landing coulda been better--scrap!" He growled, bucking his hips. Pharma whimpered again, bouncing faster. His hiked wings trembling as they twitched. The older bot took his partner by the waist, so much smaller, held him there as he met him halfway with clumsy but hard jerks. Filling Pharma until ever inch of his unit was snug and grinding into the pliant, wet mesh walls.

Bumblebee's throat was dry. He blinked a few times, still not sure if this was reality.

"S-Still not on p-par," Pharma leered, reaching down to grab his own unit, "w-with my fantasies."

"I'd bend ya over the desk if ya hadn't thrown me on the ground like some wild mechanimal!" Ratchet spat, slamming and holding himself inside Pharma for a few seconds.

Pharma groaned. "Sorry," he chuckled, stroking his unit, "just... it's been s-so long..." He smiled, so serene and happy. "I've m-missed you, rustbucket..."

Ratchet couldn't help but smile, too. 

It was kind of cute, Bumblebee thought. 

"Yea," Ratchet exvented, "I missed ya, too, Pharma."

"M-Missed this more," Pharma teased. He reached between them, finding his anterior node. He started rubbing, moving in tandem with the thrusts in his channel, the pace of the unit in his hand. "Oh, f-frag!" He yipped, biting his lip. Coolant dribbled from the corners of his mouth, glossing his optics.

Ratchet suddenly slapped Pharma's hand from his unit. He took it, picked up the stroking. Pharma yelped, falling forward, entire chassis trembling. Bumblebee choked down his gasp.

"Still g-got the better hands," Ratchet grumbled.

"Mm, yes!" Pharma cried, rutting into both the hand and unit. Deep inside him now, just barely grazing against clustered sensors. He rubbed his anterior node faster, mouth hanging open and tongue lolling. "Oh Primus..." He couldn't see straight, everything a hot, messy blur, his hips almost moving automatically now, riding and clenching down.

Ratchet grinned toothily. "Better than yer fantasies _now_?" he gibed. He twisted his wrist, just so perfectly, tugging Pharma's unit and squeezing the head. Pharma loudly squealed, and Bumblebee swore he saw stars.

"Yes, yes!" Pharma cried, lost in ecstasy. He no longer looked like the prim, proper, composed medic from before. Just melting, drooling, crying putty in Ratchet's worn, old hands. 

"Seein' you like this, just a big mess," Ratchet crooned, "makes my rusty spark flutter."

"Mm!" Pharma haunched forward, wings quivering. "I'm gonna... overload..." He vented, snapping into Ratchet's hand. "Primus, oh Primus, I--I can't...!" With a howl, Pharma sat back, hips raised in the air and free of the unit. He keened as he overloaded, spilling transfluid on both himself and his partner. Ratchet grunted, wiping a few drops that caught his face. Bumblebee wondered if the jet was going to overload himself dry before Pharma finally came down, flopping on top of Ratchet, venting and shaking and completely spent.

"Who's 'rushin' it now?" Ratchet snorted, idly petting Pharma's wings. "An' they say old bots like me got weak stamina... Fah!"

Pharma slowly sat up, still trembling. "That was..." He wiped the coolant from his mouth. "... It was... y-you. Completely, e-entirely you." He grinned, bowing down and gently kissing Ratchet. Ratchet chuckled, giving one corner of Pharma's right wing a playful flick.

This was ridiculously cute. Bumblebee felt even more uncomfortable. Before, it was certainly... not right, but now... Seeing them so affectionate, tenderly cuddling, it felt wrong, spying on them. Like this was something to be treasured just between the bonded couple in privacy. Bumblebee couldn't help but feel guilty for intruding.

Pharma sat up, that playful little smile turned into a wicked, mischievous grin. "Now," he purred, rising on his knees, fluid dripping from his channel and flaccid unit, "I do believe it's _your_ turn to scream my name, old bot."

"Heh." Ratchet's optics shimmered. "Let's see if ya still got it, kid."

Pharma slid down, moving much like a cat. Bumblebee gulped. It was quite... erotic. Seekers with their damn streamlined, slim, elegant frames... Pharma laid between Ratchet's knees, minding his fuselage, hands wrapped around his thighs. Pharma looked at Ratchet's unit, back to him; with that grin still on his face, he leaned forward, dragging his tongue slowly up the unit, tasting his own fluids on it.

Ratchet grumbled, fingers clutching the cold steel floor.

Bumblebee watched, sitting forward, almost pressed to the door. Pharma wrapped his plush lips around Ratchet's unit-head, suckling. He moved down, inch by inch, tongue lapping against the underside of the unit. He sucked harder; by the time he'd taken Ratchet to the hilt, brushing against his open intakes, his cheeks were hollowed. When Pharma pulled back, Ratchet bucked and almost screamed, pounding a fist against the floor.

"S-Scrap!"

Pharma chortled, licking his lips. He repeated the process, stopping halfway to work the unit in small, shallow strokes in his throat. Moving it to the side, until it pushed against his cheek, teeth lightly grazing. Pharma pulled back, mouthing the side of the shaft, giving the biolights little nibbles that had Ratchet moaning and shaking.

"F-Frag, Ph... Pharma..." Ratchet wheezed, optics rolling up and back.

"Tastes just like I remember." Pharma vented hot air against the unit, causing it to twitch. He grabbed the length in both hands, lips around the top, and started sucking, just as hard as before; lips pulling back and teasing the slit. Making low, guttural, pleased noises--not too unlike Ratchet's more loutish grunts and groans.

Ratchet cursed, bucking up into Pharma's mouth, past intakes. Pharma held on, ready. Ratchet grabbed the top of the younger medic's helm, held on as he snarled, finally reaching overload. Pharma swallowed large mouthfuls of the transfluid, the cables along his neck working and rolling visibly.

"H-Holy scrap..." Bumblebee whispered, completely entranced. He didn't realize, however, he'd been leaning a little too hard against the door...

And then the jar broke and the pickle just fell out.

"What the frag!?" Ratchet shouted, nearly shoving Pharma off of him. He pulled free, quickly covering himself. "What are you doing, you glitch!?" he snapped at Bumblebee.

"Shit," Bumblebee cried. He jumped to his feet, hands raised. "I--I'm sorry! I just--well--I didn't see a-anything! I swear!"

"You're a terrible liar!" Pharma spat, optics flushed violet. "Get out!"

"Before I tear off yer head an' weld it to yer aft!" Ratchet thundered, picking up a datapad and throwing it at Bumblebee.

Bumblebee squeaked, racing out of the room and off the ship in his fastest time yet.

Ratchet groaned, massaging his temples. "I can't believe... That dirty little scraplet..." he growled.

Pharma huffed. "How uncouth."

"... Well, y'wanna spoon before all the afterglow wears off?"

Pharma chuckled, smiling. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Ratchet. "Of course," he purred, pecking the old bot on his cheek. "We still have a lot of bonding and catching up to do, after all~"

Ratchet just sighed and held Pharma, mumbling obscenities and threats to Bumblebee's health under his breath.


End file.
